Nan Yan was still too young to hide her affection for someone. She found Qi Yang admirable in every way and always clung to him, reporting every little detail of her day.
Qi Yang consistently encouraged her to read more, which often invited mockery from their fellow disciples. For cultivators, the Qi Refining stage didn’t require extensive knowledge. Understanding acupoints, meridians, and cultivation mantras was sufficient. They viewed the classics on etiquette and history as relics of mortal sages, worth a glance but not the thorough study Qi Yang demanded of Nan Yan.
Out of fondness for her adoptive brother, Nan Yan didn’t question his methods. She halved her cultivation time to read, gradually losing interest in the frivolous stories she once enjoyed.
A month later, Qi Yang exhaled deeply in his meditation room, opening his eyes with a hint of darkness. The Dao Heart Sutra, the world’s supreme cultivation technique, allowed him to establish his foundation perfectly at Nan Yan’s age. Now, he was stuck in the late stages of Qi Refining, unable to progress.
Was it because this body he had taken over lacked the aptitude?
Qi Yang spread his fingers, slowly condensing a ball of spiritual energy. It swirled like a shuttle, pure and solid, vastly superior to his peers who practiced the Yang Yue Sect’s techniques.
He silently recited the Dao Heart Sutra again: “Those who cultivate the Dao Heart Sutra must not let emotions cloud their vision, nor harbor hatred in their hearts…”
Qi Yang, also known as Qi Shaocang, had fallen from grace, his grand path destroyed and found himself trapped in the Mortal State, bound by a life-linking lock. Could he truly claim to feel no hatred?
As a hint of demonic thoughts stirred in his mind, a loud knocking came from outside.
“We agreed to go to the market at noon! Three breaths left. Three, two, one! Time’s up! Let’s go!”
The little girl’s crisp voice rang out repeatedly, seemingly dispersing the nascent demonic thoughts.
Qi Yang reflected for a moment. As the knocking grew more urgent, he sighed, grabbed his spirit stone pouch, and opened the door.
“Next time, just use the voice transmission talisman at the door. I’ll come out.”
“You were in your meditation room when I left this morning, and you’re still there now. I was worried you’d be hungry.” Nan Yan produced a steaming rice cake, offering it proudly. “Here, eat this. I had it steamed using the leftover heat from the medicine hall.”
Logically, Nan Yan should have finished her snacks long ago. Surprisingly, despite her chubby hands, she was quite adept in the kitchen. Through self-reliance, she had even saved up quite a few fasting pills.
Unable to refuse her enthusiasm, Qi Yang took a bite and found it surprisingly tasty. He asked curiously, “This rice… where did you get it?”
“I planted it at the edge of the spirit field. It ripens quickly. I used the wind-milling technique you taught me to grind it into flour.”
The “Huainanzi” states: “When people fully use their talents and exert all their strength, they can adapt and make the most of everything.” It seemed she had been reading diligently lately.
“Is it good?”
Qi Yang looked at Nan Yan, then at the rice cake, finding them increasingly alike. He praised, “Soft, fragrant, sweet, round, and jade-like. It’s an excellent cake.”
Nan Yan loved hearing Qi Yang’s four-character compliments. Overjoyed, she said, “Then eat more! I brought several pieces. We can eat on the way.”
Qi Yang was about to say it was improper to eat while walking, but seeing Nan Yan’s excitement for their outing, he decided to set aside etiquette for now. With Nan Yan in one hand and a rice cake in the other, they descended the mountain, attracting curious glances along the way.
About ninety li west of Yang Yue Sect lay a small market town nestled in a valley. A few hundred paces away was a mortal road leading to a human prefecture.
When Qi Yang and Nan Yan arrived in the early afternoon, old horses were snorting in the shade at a nearby post station. A tea stall owner was tossing finely chopped licorice into a boiling teapot. The tables were filled with merchants chatting about this year’s prices for firewood and rice.
“Wrong way. It’s over here,” Qi Yang said, turning Nan Yan’s face away. “Having entered the immortal path, we should minimize our exposure to mortal affairs.”
Nan Yan looked up and asked, “Isn’t that just like becoming a monk?”
“Cultivators seek longevity. It’s different from Buddhist monkhood.”
“How is it different?” Nan Yan counted on her fingers. “No eating, no drinking, no family, no smiling at anyone. Just meditation and fighting. It’s no fun at all.”
Qi Yang was at a loss for words. After a moment, he tried to explain, “Family is still possible, just in a different form. If cultivation methods and realms are compatible, people can become dao partners.”
“That’s worse than becoming a monk. Two people who don’t even like each other, just paired up to improve their cultivation.” Nan Yan pouted. “Once I get the pill to cure my mother, I’m going home.”
Undoubtedly, Nan Yan had great aptitude, but she lacked a heart truly devoted to the Dao. Her childhood had been fulfilling, far better than the dull path of cultivation.
But mortal life was fleeting. Qi Yang couldn’t help but think of the life-linking lock… How could he make her want to cultivate voluntarily?
Lost in thought, they entered the market town’s barrier. Once inside, Nan Yan was captivated by the sights, forgetting their earlier conversation.
“Bet on ten-year-old second-grade spirit herbs! Twenty spirit stones per share!”
“Snow Lion beast cubs! Ready for core extraction in three years!”
“Batch of demon beast hides, trading only for solid pills!”
“Furnace shop owner about to enter seclusion! Selling twenty-year-old furnaces!”
The valley market had wide plank roads built into the cliff sides, bustling with all sorts of strange goods. Unlike mortal markets, cultivators cared more about the vendor’s cultivation level than the appearance of their stall. The higher the cultivation, the more popular their wares.
After two months of work at Yang Yue Sect, Nan Yan had accumulated twelve spirit stones and twenty bone-warming pills, mostly from taking over Qi Yang’s medicine hall duties while he focused on cultivation. Among her peers, she was relatively well-off.
“Young friend, do you like this sky-swimming fish? Five spirit stones each. One feeding a month is enough.”
A cultivator selling spirit beasts held up a white porcelain fish bowl. Inside, a blue goldfish swam slowly. As Nan Yan leaned in to look, the fish flicked its tail and floated out of the bowl. Its gauzy fins shimmered like gold dust as it gracefully circled Nan Yan before returning to the bowl to blow bubbles.
Nan Yan desperately wanted the item, but remembering she needed to find medicine for her mother’s illness, she restrained herself.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Ji Yang smiled. “I thought you liked it?”
Nan Yan whispered, “The pills inside look expensive. We should save money.”
“Oh,” Ji Yang replied, seemingly comforted by her frugality. He didn’t appear worried about spirit stones as he led Nan Yan to the pill and stone area.
The most common item sold there was the Spirit Consolidation Pill, which accelerated spiritual energy absorption during meditation. It was the lowest-grade pill. Next was Bone-Warming Pills like the one Nan Yan had, which nourished bones, improved cultivation, and strengthened the body.
There were also breakthrough pills, which relied on short bursts of massive spiritual energy to break through meridian barriers and advance cultivation. These were the most expensive and sought-after.
“Low-grade Qi Refinement Pill! Thirty percent chance of breakthrough from the early to mid-Qi Refinement stage. Starting price: 300 spirit stones!” a vendor shouted.
“330 spirit stones!” someone bid.